


Heart Shaped Diamond

by Nubeviolet



Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: (i guess), Fluff, M/M, Phantom Thief AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-01-07
Packaged: 2019-10-06 08:21:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17341898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nubeviolet/pseuds/Nubeviolet
Summary: Ouma, an infamous phantom thief, is set on snatching Saihara's heart.My piece for the Winter Oumasai Exchange, for recipient #4!





	Heart Shaped Diamond

This was his last chance. And his first one, too. The only chance he’ll ever get at making Saihara love him for sure, and Ouma had already assumed it would be in vain.  
For him, Ouma Kokichi, the Checkered Thief, had ran out of corrupt people to target in his heists. It had been quite a while since he started, after all. So, he had decided he would stop, even if the injustices continued.   
With that decision, though, came letting go of a certain detective. Saihara was the only reason Ouma was still “in business”. They had met on what was probably Ouma’s first heist. Saihara, in training at the time, had burst in through the door of the room Ouma was in. Just like right now.  
Ouma unconsciously gripped the bouquet, made purely of stocks—”you’ll always be beautiful to me”—, tighter.   
“Oh, detective! I wasn’t expecting you.” Ouma said, flashing the most convincing grin. Yep, he’s definitely not dying inside.  
“You send a letter to my house asking me to come, but if you say so.” Saihara giggled, closing the door behind him.  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about~” Ouma took the bouquet from behind his back gracefully. “For you.” He winked, too, but that couldn’t be seen behind the mask.   
Saihara seemed to stop functioning. He was frozen in his spot, beet red and staring bewildered at the flowers in front of his face.   
“Are you gonna take them? My arm’s getting real tired, y’know?” Ouma’s voice seemed to break whatever spell Saihara was under. He took the present, in disbelief that this was not some kind of prank.   
“T-Thank you, but- Why?”  
“You don’t appreciate my thoughtful present?” Ouma dramatically put his hands on his heart, starting to cry. “You’re so mean, Saihara-chan!”  
Saihara sighed with a fond, maybe a bit tired, smile. “Not at all. Thank you, they’re very beautiful.”  
In a complete 180°, Ouma giggled. “Oh, it was nothing~”  
“Are you going to tell me the special occasion or I’m going to have to guess?”  
Ouma hummed, seemingly thinking it over. “I think you should guess!” Stop stalling, Kokichi. Tell him already, he said to himself.  
“... I’m not gonna get it, y’know?” was Saihara’s response.  
“Fiiiine.” Ouma rolled his eyes. “It’s probably our last meeting, my beloved.”  
“Oh.” Saihara said softly, staring at the flowers in his hands. He was, in all honesty, expecting it. “How long has it been?”  
“One year, four months and two weeks!” Ouma exclaimed, a bit disappointed that Saihara showed little to no reaction. He supposed it was good enough, someone as bright as Saihara didn’t belong in the darkness Ouma walked spent his days; living on the smallest place with nine other people, everyone barely fitting in the same space.   
Saihara was surprised, rising his gaze to meet Ouma’s.  
“You’ve been keeping count?”  
Purple eyes looked to the side, not being able to hold the stare. “Maybe, maybe not~”  
Silence fell not so comfortably. Ouma wanted out of there, so he could forget about his dumb crush already. So he could forget of everything the past year had to offer. So he could forget Saihara’s smile, that brought oh so much joy to his sealed away heart.   
Ouma Kokichi, you’ve gotten yourself in the biggest mess you ever encountered.  
“Will-” Saihara choked on his words, voice a whisper. “Will we be meeting again?” Will I be seeing you again?   
Without a moment of hesitation, Ouma extravagantly inclined in front of his love, one hand offered to him, the other on his own heart. “That, I’m afraid, can only be decided by the heavens. But if so your heart desires, not even fate will be able to stop our affair.”   
Saihara smiled in bewildered amusement, brows raised, as Ouma grinned mischievously at him. I can’t believe you’re doing this. “What does that even mean!?” He exclaimed.  
“It means what it means, detective.” Said the thief, already on the ledge of the window. “Know that’s this been the most fun I’ve had in ages.”   
And with that, he jumped. Saihara blinked. This is the second floor.   
Saihara rushed to the window, only to see a dark, empty, alleyway.  
He tried a smile, but it came out poor and pathetic. With a sigh, he wondered if it was necessary to leave in such a rush.  
The walk home was quiet. The street lights dimly lit the ground his feet stepped on, the cold night breeze letting his mind relax and go over every word he exchanged with him. For every meeting of them was a new puzzle for Saihara to solve, piece by piece. Nothing was what it seemed to be, always a deeper meaning or connection with something else. And he felt this challenge to be particularly important. Like if he couldn’t solve it, he would lose a part of him. An important part.   
He still held the flowers. They were a truly beautiful gift, and to be gifted to him by the one who he had grown quite fond of. A small crush, Saihara dared to admit.   
Ouma Kokichi, he had told him his name not too long ago, introduced himself into the young detective’s life quite comically. Ouma loved challenges, as he had declared soon after they locked eyes for the first time, and always had a plan. He was mischievous at times, and seemed to lie compulsively, always with a smile on his face. But sometimes, that smile turned smaller, and his, very pretty, purple eyes became melancholic. Cold, even.   
Saihara wondered which was closer to the true Ouma.

———

Saihara was readying himself for school, his uncle gone hours ago for work. He gave one last glance at the flowers before leaving, they were now in a vase in his desk, beside the window, and thought that smelling them one last time would be quite nice.   
With that thought it mind, he approached the flowers and noted that one flower seemed… not real enough. He reached to touch it. Plastic. Lifting it up in his hands, the flower opened in half. It shot some sweet liquid he knew too well; grape soda. His expression was utterly unimpressed and flat as Saihara could basically hear Ouma laughing behind his ear. It was absolutely harmless and yet, so Ouma.  
Sighing, he cleaned his face with his sleeve, well aware it would get stained. Inspecting the flower a bit more, he retrieved the paper that lied deeper inside of it.   
It was very, very small. As Saihara unfolded it with eagerness, excitement bubbling in his chest, he was everything but disappointed.  
The paper, now in its full size, was quite big. And, what made Saihara really happy, filled with what seemed to be written morse code. What made Saihara even more happy, was the “?” at the end of the note.  
The young detective suddenly remembered he had classes to attend to. He folded the paper again and tucked it in his pocket, then left.

———

Saihara could not keep his mind on the lecture. He kept trying to remember what little he ever knew of morse code, wondering if there was anything else inside the flower, wondering if Ouma felt the same as him. Unlikely, but it wasn’t bad to think of it.  
In a sudden wave of curiosity, he raised his hand to ask if he could go to the bathroom. As the teacher reluctantly said yes, he got up comically quickly and headed straight for the library.   
Saihara kindly asked for the books he needed and sat down at a table. Forgetting about his obligation to return to class, he started slowly translating the message.   
First; one dot, two short lines, and another dot. That’s a… P. Saihara wrote it down.  
Saihara grew more and more excited as he progressed through the lines and dots.  
P-A-R-K-A-F-T-E-R-S-C-H-O-O-L-?  
Saihara’s pink cheeks gave no room for doubt. What park was he supposed to go to wasn’t a question either, it was probably the one Ouma had invited him to one night, just to gift him a handmade keychain. Saihara treasured the dice keychain a lot, and used it for the keys to his, and his uncle’s, house.  
But what if it wasn’t? Saihara thought that he would go to every park the city had until he found him, before quickly brushing it away.  
After placing the book back in its place, Saihara returned to class.

———

Ouma was shuffling nervously in his winter coat. It wasn’t because he was cold, though. Oh, how he wished it was that simple. He was just waiting for someone that, in all likelihood, wouldn’t even show up. He was stubborn enough to hide the note very… well, stubbornly. The probability of Saihara keeping the bouquet he gifted him were already infinitely low. That he found the plastic flower? Even less.   
And still, Ouma stood there. He trusted Saihara could find the note, he was the most brilliant person Ouma had ever met. And yet, what if he didn’t show up, not because the note went unnoticed, but because he was tired of Ouma? He didn’t want to lose Saihara. He was the only one who could make Ouma’s life not dull anymore. The only one that seemed to be genuinely interested in him.  
But even if Saihara didn’t show up, he would wait for him. He had decided it, and he would die here if he had to.   
That was an exaggeration, but Ouma was determined.

“O-Ouma-kun!” He heard that familiar voice call for him.  
With Saihara delighted smile and waving as he approached the shorter boy, Ouma realized that maybe, he already had Saihara’s heart.

**Author's Note:**

> Aaa, I'm so insecure about this lmao hope you enjoyed


End file.
